asterix

*Am working on figuring out the best way to render Devanagari. For now, transliteration...sorry. Namaste.
Showing posts with label karma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label karma. Show all posts

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Yoga is... (Yoga Sutras 4.27-34)... The End

I only know one thing...and that is that I know No-thing...

One of the things that made the Athenians mad enough to condemn Socrates to death is his inadvertent bringing God to be his witness at his trial. Let God, and in this case, Apollo, be my witness to testify that "I am not a wise man," Socrates says in so many words, causing a ruckus in the courtroom to say the least.



In Plato's Apology (which literally means a "defense") of Socrates, the accused relates the story of how once Chaerephon, a fellow Athenian, went to the Oracle at Delphi and asked her who is the wisest man in Athens? The answer was that no-one was wiser than Socrates, with the emphasis on not saying that Socrates was wisest, but that no one was wiser. Socrates took this challenge to heart and went around Athens trying to find someone wiser, or for that matter, who truly knew anything at all. His conclusion was that everyone claims to "know" something, but in reality, we do not really know and nobody had true wisdom as such. And, since Socrates never claimed to know anything, rather, as above, he claimed that the only thing he did know was that he did not know anything...(That is, by the way, Socratic irony par excellence), which means at least he was not a hypocrite about being wise. The Athenians were not amused and sentenced him to death.

We are approaching that sentiment very quickly in the closure of Patañjali's Yoga Sutras as we shall see momentarily. Similar, but different; different, yet similar.

In 4.26, we arrived at the state of mind in which one needs to be in to engage with the ultimate concept of Yoga, Kaivalya, and that mind is one that is fully attuned to the process of discernment and discrimination, that is viveka. Viveka is the path of conscious decisions and processing of information, having shed the veils of a-vidya and the fog of samskãras so that one can see things as they are and not how we want them to be, which are often dramatically different things.

So, the stage is set, the well is primed, and the mind is engaged in viveka, however, we are human after all, as 4.27 reminds us:

tac-chidreshu pratyaya-antarãni samskãrebhyah 4.27

or,
Other ideas/concepts/perceptions arise from the samskãras within the lapses (of the viveka-mind). 4.27

In other words, to paraphrase Horace's lament (via Pope), even Homer nods...When the mind is not fully engaged then we relapse into the perceptions and prejudices governed by the samskãras, or mental impressions. So, at times, we shall all fall back into old habits, and from that comes indiscretion and avidyã rears its ugly head.

4.28, however, reminds us that there is a remedy:

hãnam-eshãm kleshavad-uktam 4.28

The extinction/cessation of these lapses have already been spoken of, as with the kleshas. 4.28

Here, Patañjali reminds us of YS II.10-11 which tells us that when the mind is back in its original state (pre-tainted by samskãras and avidyã), then the kleshas are eliminated, and dhyãna is the key to that return. To return to those highly important sutras, that is when we learn that avidyã is the root of all kleshas, or obstacles to our Yogic path, and consequently the source of our suffering, or duhkham. And, it is at that point that Patañjali provides the 8-limb program, which culminates in the samyama of dhãranã-dhyãna-samãdhi, about which is the focus of Book III.

The lynchpin of the samyama triad, namely dhyãna, or intensive, focused meditation, is once again the answer to ridding ourselves of the kleshas, clearing out the storehouse of karma (YS 4.6), and now also the lapses in our discretion. But, once again, this is not mere navel-gazing, for as we also have seen, that leads to an infinite loop, which leads us nowhere.

Rather, it is intensive, focused meditation on the fact that the Seer (I) and the Seen (thou) are not separate. To see that in everything, at all times then is Kaivalya. Blake's oft-quoted quatrain from "Auguries of Innocence" comes to mind:

To see the World in a Grain of Sand,
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the Palm of your Hand,
And Eternity in an Hour...

This is the vision, the discretion that Kaivalya requires through dhyãna. It is the conscious awareness that leads to letting go of the dualities to arrive at the ultimate singularity.

We continue then with 4.29-30 which introduces us to the most curious phrase in all of the sutras:

prasamkhyãne'apyakusIdasya sarvathã viveka-khyãter-dharma-meghah samãdhih 4.29
tatah kleshakarmanivrittih  4.30

Giving us,
The "dharma-cloud" of samãdhi comes for the one whom is even disinterested/dispassionate about the constant perception of viveka.  4.29
Then, the kleshas and karma (or karmic affliction) are released. 4.30

Or, read slightly differently together:

The samãdhi (total integration/synthesis of Yoga) of the dharma-megha (dharma-cloud) comes about for one who is utterly free of attachment, even from the process of viveka and then, the affliction of karma is released. 4.29-30

The dharma-megha, or Dharma-cloud, then is a curious entity that does not appear anywhere else in Sanskrit philosophy, but is vaguely Buddhist in context...treading the Dhamma-pada, or path of Dharma is the highest order of enlightenment for the jivan-mukti, or one who is released in this life-time. None of the commentators actually know what the dharma-megha is, so I am not going to speculate further than the visual of one being fully enraptured by Dharma, meaning, one who has found his or her Dharma in life via the path of Yoga and then lives it, rather than just talks about it. The samãdhi, or total integration and synthesis then of Yoga is now at hand. 

The dharma-megha also sounds similar, yet different to the mystical Christian concept of "The cloude of unknowyng" or "The Cloud of Unknowing," a chiefly medieval concept (via Neo-Platonists...) that to know God, to truly know God, means to let go of everything one knows...to forget in order to remember. The Greek concept of Truth as well is a-letheia, or un-forgetting in order to remember what we have lost, looking at the Universe for what it is, not what we make it. The veil of illusion, of Mãya, or demonic magic that the Buddha overcomes is none other than the human constructs and concepts and prejudices that we build up for ourselves and promote as "truths," yet as Socrates found, they are not wisdom, but merely opinions.

And so, for the Yogi/ni, the dharma-cloud engulfs and enshrouds, but does not blind nor veil, but reveals, apo-kalyptestai...


tadã sarvãvarana-mala-ãpetasya jñãnasyãdantyãjñeyam-alam 4.31

or,
Then,  from the infinity from the result of the maladies of concealments have been removed, there is little to be known. 4.31

In other words, when we know longer seek to know by reason, and have fully integrated the Dharma, there is nothing much to be known. In other words, when the Dharma is known, and one walks the walk, there is nothing really more to know. However, it is then a continuous process of integrity, not an easy path. But, as Mark Twain is attributed to have said once, "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything." Here, if you live the Dharma, you don't need to know anything...Sounds easy, living it is another thing all together.

4.32 continues:

tatah kritãrthãnãm parinãma-krama-parisamãptir-gunãnãm 4.32
 or,
From this, with their purposes now fulfilled, the sequence of permutations of the gunas comes to an end. 4.32

Echoing the Bhagavad Gita of Krishna's directive to Arjuna to eventually transcend the gunas, because Krishna is beyond the gunas, and Krishna is the Universe, when the Dharma-megha reigns supreme in the Yogi/ni's life, the gunas are irrelevant as they have served their purpose for the mundane, but now they are inconsequential.

And so, we come to the End with 4.33-34:

kshana-pratiyogI parinãmãparãnta-nirgrãhyah kramah 4.33
purushãrtha-shUnyãnãm gunãnãm pratiprasavah kaivalyam svarupa-pratishthã vã cit-shaktir-iti 4.34

Giving us,
The sequence (of permutations) is grasped at the extreme end of change, which corresponds to small increments of Time. 4.33

Ending with:

Kaivalya, the ultimate singularity of liberation, the returning to the original state of the gunas, devoid of all purpose for Purusha, is steadfast in one's own nature, known as the power of consciousness. 4.34



When there exists illusion of the separation between the Seer and the Seen (YS 3-4), this begins a series of perceived changes (parinãma) that are linked by infinitely small increments of Time (kshana), which causes the gunas to hold sway over our Self/Atman/Purusha because of the power of avidyã. Following the path of Yoga as has been laid out by Patañjali, these increments of Time no longer exist as in the state of Kaivalya, the Seer and the Seen are united (as they were never separate in reality) and the svarupa, or true form of our Selves is experienced by the samãdhi of the Dharma-megha, or the power of consciousness as true awareness...and the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind-stuff then happens.







Monday, September 3, 2018

The Neti-Neti Plot Turns (Yoga Sutras 4.7-12)

As we saw last time, Book 4 is starting to wrap things up, but there are still some loose ends that need tying before we get the end...or, the beginning, depending upon your perspective.



Within the Indian philosophical tradition, there is an interesting approach to determining what something is, and that is by saying what it is not. The phrase "Neti Neti" is the paradigm of this tactic, and it is something that is being applied in this next section of the Kaivalyam chapter.

Neti, Neti is a contraction of Na iti, Na iti, which means "Neither this, nor that." In other words, along with the traditions of Zen and Taoism (Daoism) and sometimes in Socratic irony, to name something is to misunderstand it. The paradox is that if you name it, you don't understand it, and if you understand it, you cannot name it.

Neti, Neti then, is similar, but different. What many ancient Indian thinkers would do then is to list attributes or arguments about what something is not, or give an contrasting example of something inferior to highlight the superiority of the subject at hand.

Turning then to YS 4.7, we see this in action:

karma-ashukla-akrishnam yoginas-trividham-itareshãm  4.7

Giving us,

Karma is not-white and not-black for the Yogi, for others, it is three-fold. 4.7

In other words, for the "true" Yogi/ni, karma is no longer a loaded concept, but rather, it goes back to the proper and true meaning of karma, which is action, neither good, nor bad. White karma is action with good intention or expectations of doing good, while black (krishna, which can also be dark indigo) is with less-than-savory intentions and ultimately effects harm, or himsã to oneself or others. The third type then would be mixed, or "grey" karma, which might mean an action that is well-intended but ultimately harms, or vice versa, something bad that ultimately has positive results. For the Yogi/ni, however, it is not about intention, nor expectation of the results.

With the discretion built up from long-term viveka through diligent practice, abhyãsa, the Yogi will simply act in a proper manner that does no harm, but more importantly, he or she will not care about the results, nor seek any merit for them, nor shun de-merit if they are injurious. It is pure responsibility without attachment for one's actions and their results. Altruism is a tricky thing, because I personally believe that even altruism (doing good for others) usually has at least a trace of Ego and selfishness attached. 4.7 suggest that the Yogi/ni can transcend even that...

Moving along to 4.8, we get a corollary:

tatas-tad-vipãka-anugunãnãm-eva-abhivyaktir-vãsanãnãnm  4.8

Or,
From this, the fruition/results of (these types of) karma are indeed accordingly manifested being derived from memory.  4.8

In other words,

The results of our actions yield mental impressions (samskãra/vãsanã), which means that ultimately we seek results based upon habits and experience. The more one become attached to such results, the more "colored" one's actions become. Through Yoga, however, we exercise vairagyam, or detachment from these habits, and again, simply act, not because it will make us feel better about ourselves or harm our enemies, but because it is proper action (karma), or at times non-action (a-karma), befitting the situation.

So, with these 2 sutras, we see what the karma of the Yogi/ni is not...hence the Neti, Neti of it.

The following 2 sutras are another example of possibly being a single sutra, or at the very least, a couplet as follows:

jãti-desha-kãla-vyavahitãnãm-apyãnantaryam smriti-samskãrayor-ekarupatvãt 4.9
tãsãm-anãditvam ca-ãshisho nityatvãt 4.10

Bringing us,

Because of the singular, true nature of memory and samskãra, there is no interruption between, even if there are intervals/separations of lineage, place or time. 4.9
And, because of the eternal nature of the Will to be, they are without beginning. 4.10

These two sutras, then, take us into a bit more detail of the mental impressions that are inextricably linked with memory, despite breaks in time, place and even births, and they are eternally present where there is a Will to Be. What this means is that our habits and expectations are seriously hard-wired, so we need to completely re-wire the system if we are to break free.

What is truly amazing about these two sutras, however, is that they pre-date modern neurological research into this very phenomena under the rubric of neuroplasticity, which basically means, we can willfully change our brains, literally! This is the exact path that we have taken with Yoga, to literally, change our minds...

 The next 2 sutras can likewise be taken together, though not as intimately linked, yet:


hetu-phalãshrayãlambanaih samgrihItatvãd-eshãm-abhãve tad-abhãvah 4.11

and

atItãnãgatam svarupato'astyadhva-bhedãd-dharmãnãm 4.12

Bringing us to:

Due to the constitutional nature of being supported by the refuge of cause and effect, when these are absent, then there is absence of samskãra 4.11

The past and the not-yet-manifest (future) exist in their true form because of the nature of being different/discrete of inherent properties/characteristics. 4.12

Dissecting this a bit more, this means:

Our mental categories/impressions, that are bound to our memory are supported by cause and effect, and when these are gone, so to do the samskãras dissipate, and our perception of time is merely contingent upon the perception of there being differences, based upon our mental constructs, bound to memory.

In other words, as is über-trendy now to say, When you truly live in the NOW, then prejudices fall away, and we can see without clouded mental filters...

What a wonderful world it would be...

To be continued.






Friday, August 31, 2018

Kaivalyam...And, Then There was ONE (Yoga Sutras 4.1-6)

And so, we move ever closer to the end.





Book IV will bring us challenges to be sure. The nominal title given to this Book is Kaivalya, which as we have seen means: to be utterly alone; a singularity. However, this singularity is no less than the pinnacle of self-awareness, the goal of Yoga, which is why we began this journey. Book IV is no longer a road map as we have seen in Book II with the introduction of the 8 Limbs of Yoga. It is not a cautionary tale of what could go wrong if we let our Ego be overcome by the powers of Siddhi as in Book III. And, though it will hearken back to the original explanation of the quest for Samãdhi in Book I, where we began, it shall move even further beyond...

One of the oft-quoted definitions of Yoga is from the Bhagavad Gita in 2.50 with the phrase: yogah karmasu kaushalam, or Yoga is skill in actions. A common crossover, and related, phrase that we also see in Zen is upaya kaushalya, or skillful/expedient means. Up to this point, we have been encountering a mixture of these two concepts on the path of Yoga, as being a sort of skillful means to navigate through actions. Now, however, it is time to see where that has led us with respect to avidyã, or ignorance, and the relationship to duhkham, or suffering, which from YS 2.16, we saw was the purpose of Yoga: to avoid suffering that has not yet manifested/happened.

In other words, what have we learned?

One of the words that has been coming up quite often and its importance being made more each time is the concept of parinãma, or change/evolution/transformation.

Why is this so important to our Yoga path? Simply put, without change, without an evolution of thinking from experience or without a transformation from what we were when we began, then nothing has happened. Or worse, we have been given vidyã, and yet we choose avidyã. In Book VI of Plato's Republic, there is the story that has generally become known as "The Allegory of the Cave."

It tells the story of our condition as being shackled to benches in a cave, with our backs to the opening of the cave. By way of the light source behind us, shadows of figures are cast upon the wall in front of us, with everyone believing, "this is reality." However, one prisoner escapes, crawls out of the cave and "sees the true Light" and is literally blinded for a while. When his sight returns, he is in awe of the Beauty he now see for the first time. He goes back to share this wonderful gift to his fellow prisoners of the cave. They promptly think him mad, and are annoyed that he disturbs their mindless and false entertainment of the shadows dancing on the wall. So, they do what we always do to those who wish to share vidyã to our avidyã. They kill him.

The Yoga Sutras, likewise, are offering a key to the shackles. And yet, in the name of "Yoga" so many people shun the hard work, the abhyãsa in favor of bumper-stickers turn it into a multi-billion dollar network, all the while apparently being oh-so appalled at those who dare to make money off of Yoga as it is not "real Yoga." And, yet, what is the "real" Yoga that they speak of? I wonder.

But, all in good time.

We begin with Book IV as we begin our end. It begins, however, a bit bumpy with some curiosities before we get back on track so to speak.

4.1 concludes the discussion of the Siddhis gained by various samyamas from Book III with a list of possible ways to obtain them:

janmaushadhi-mantra-tapah-samãdhijãh siddhayah 4.1

Or,
Siddhis are born from birth, herbal tonics, acts of austerity and samãdhi. 4.1

Although it is very straight forward, with no real room for further interpretation, it is odd that Book III was all about the relationship between samyama and siddhi, then we have 4.1, and these causes are not discussed further in any details. So, personally, 4.1 sticks out a bit like a sore thumb for me.

So, with that, we might move along to 4.2:

jãtyantara-parinãmah prakrityãpUrãt  4.2

Or,
Because of the abundance of Nature/Prakriti, there is an evolution/transformation in births.  4.2

There are a variety of interpretations for this sutra, but I am inclined to go with the concept that because of the abundance of Nature, there is diversity in Life...makes sense. More or less Darwin's theory of evolution (parinãma) in a Yogic nutshell. As we saw in Book III, parinãma is the essence of growth for the Yogi/ni as well. Without that evolution or transformation, there is no progress.

Moving onto 4.3, we arrive at an extended metaphor that is usually explained in terms of agricultural irrigation:

nimittam-aprayojakam prakritInãm varna-bhedas-tu tatah kshetrivat  4.3

Giving us,

Causality is ultimately non-useful, for natural modalities [parinãma/evolution/transformation]; as such, as a farmer irrigates a field, impediments are cut away.

The general analogy here is lost on modern ears, so it is best to defer to the commentaries about this metaphor. In traditional agriculture, the farmer would have little sluices/trenches in the ground and would move the earth to re-channel the water. Here, Patañjali is saying that ultimately the efficient cause of things is irrelevant because in the end, the obstacles must be cleared, which is again, the goal of Yoga here. There is cause and effect in the physical world, that is not to be denied, but what the Yogi/ni is moving towards is the free-flowing of the mind, devoid of the cluttering of obstacles caused by a-vidyã

And, moving on, we arrive at:

nirmãna-cittãnyasmitã-mãtrãt 4.4

Or,
Transforming thoughts are solely the product of the Ego. 4.4

In other words, the sense of being "I" is what causes the perception of change. It is the first division of the mind, separating "I" from "everything else" and from there, one perceives change in Time and Space, whereas without that construct, there are no divisions as we shall see later in the chapter. The situational irony at hand is that kaivalya is the movement back to singularity, the all-encompassing "I" with no separation, but it is that very "I" that causes the separation, but also what is the Seer who must transcend itself...it is the Ouroboros of consciousness, the snake which swallows its own tail and ultimately disappears...

And, so, we move along to find out how, step by step.

pravritti-bhede prayojakam cittam-ekam-anekanãm 4.5

Giving us,

A single, necessary consciousness exists in the immanent division of [conceived] pluralities. 4.5

Here we begin our journey to catch the Bull as we see in the 10 Bulls story of Zen. The "Bull" is the Self or consciousness that one needs to catch and tame; but that is the illusion. The Bull was never lost, never not one with the boy. And, in the end, they are both transcended, which is then, and only then, the true singular consciousness, the kaivalya.

And, then,

tatra dhyãna-jam-anãshayam 4.6

As such, the freedom from karmic stock is born from intense concentration. 4.6

Dhyãna, then, the root of the word Zen itself as well, is the means towards the solution. What binds us to our prejudices and false perceptions is karma, or the deeds of our Past. Again, karma is neither good, nor bad, but it just is. Our Past simply is, but, it is the baggage the prohibits our freedom from a-vidyã... Dhyãna, the core element of the samyama that we learned about at length in Book III is again just the means, not the solution itself. For that, we need to go further...

To be continued...




Sunday, April 15, 2018

The Roots of Our Discontent (YS 2.10-14)

Everything old is new again, and everything new is old again...or so it goes. Book II of Patañjali's Yoga Sutras is, on the surface, about the way we go about our abhyãsa, or diligent practice, that we learn about in Book I. However, with only marginal scratching, below this surface we find what is the core of the Sutras, namely, why bother?

Only in New Mexico, though East 108 would have been interesting!


Before I began a sutra-by-sutra exegesis of the Sutras, I posted on sutra 2.16, saying that for me, at least, it is that very core concept to answer that question, "why bother?" At this point we have slowly built up to that point, but not yet. A few missing pieces, however, need to be filled in before we return to that particular sutra. And, 2.10-14 provide just such pieces. So, let's take a look.

Sutra 2.10, picking up from the previous nine, which begin Book II and introduce the kleshas, or afflictions, that plague us all at one time or another, and can be varying in their intensity and effect upon us and our practice. Moreover, the kingpin of the kleshas according to Patañjali is no less than a-vidyã, or ignorance, which then generates all other kleshas.

Sutra 2.10 then takes us a step further in true Patañjali fashion by providing a solution to our problem:

te pratiprasavaheyãh sukshmãh   2.10

Or,

They/These [kleshas] [are] subtle and are eliminated by a return to the original state [of our Be-ing, or of the kleshas?]. 

It is not clear which "original state" is being referred to. And, yet again, owing to the hyper-economy of sutra grammar, we could also read this as:

The subtle [kleshas] are eliminated by returning to the original state. 

So, either only the subtle kleshas are eliminated in this fashion, or all of them are, and they are subtle in nature. Both from more common syntax models and meaning, I am inclined to adopt the latter. This would mean that the kleshas, being subtle, are immaterial. In other words, it's all in our mind. This fits in alignment with Patañjali's overarching artha, or goal, that is, eliminating the disturbances in the mind, such as we saw from the very onset, and as we shall see in Book IV even more dramatically.

There is a common thread throughout the Sutras with this reading in that our mind is responsible for the vast majority, if not all, of our true suffering. Now, the obvious, and valid objection to this is that we can, and do, have physical afflictions that cause us suffering in life. That being said, the Yogi/ni in practice can overcome the physical obstacles through abhyãsa. Again, no small feat, nor does Patañjali give it to us as such. Patañjali does not discount the existence of the physical, but he does place a great deal more emphasis on the mental. The Sutras could easily be mistaken for modern psycho-analysis if one is not careful about which came first...

But, what is at hand here is, whichever way we do read 2.10, what is the original state? And, how do we return to it? The answer, being no surprise, is Yoga. But, let's scratch a bit deeper with 2.11, which gives us a spoiler alert for the ashtanga steps of Yoga that are imminent in Book II. We read:

dhyãna-heyãs-tad-vrittayah         2.11

Or,

The disturbances [of the kleshas] are eliminated through dhyãna.  2.11

Dhyãna, as we have already seen, and shall see again more in detail in Book III, is profound meditation, and is the seventh "step" in the 8-step program that Patañjali is building up to, more commonly known as the 8-limbs of Yoga. But, as we saw in Book I, Patañjali is wont to give us the answer first in Jeopardy! fashion, then build up to the question as he does here. The answer: Dhyãna. The question: How do we eliminate those pesky kleshas from our practice/life? And, the follow-up question is: To what end? with the answer being: Samãdhi, which is the consequence of this 8-fold path, which culminates with the application of the penultimate step, Dhyãna.

Fair enough, but we need to get to the root of the problem, or in this case, problems, which are the kleshas. Where do they come from? Sutra 2.12 happily provides the answer:

klesha-mulah karmãshayo dristha-adrishta-janma-vedaniyah 2.12

Giving us,

The root (mula) of the kleshas is the storehouse of karma, which is the lived experience of lives seen and unseen. 

Now, karma, as we well know, has crept into our modern languages across the board, and most especially in New Age, Yoga and Metaphysical/Spiritual avenues of thought. But, here's the rub. More often than not, the word karma is misused at best, misunderstood even more so. Popularly used, it has come to mean, more or less, an nearly instant  "tit for a tat" or "an eye for eye" essentially, meaning if you do something bad, then something bad happens to you later in the day, or if you do a good deed, then ye shall be duly rewarded by bedtime. Not exactly.

As this has been long a pet peeve of mine, I did post on this some years ago, but it bears repeating at this juncture. Karma, on its own, and its purest form simply means <<the thing done>>, or even more simply <<action>>. In itself, it does not carry a value charge, so to speak, that is, it is neither good, nor bad, nor evil, nor anything else, it just is. Karma is what we do. Basta. So, the storehouse of karma, or karmãshayah, is merely a metaphysical ledger that holds our accounts receivable of our deeds. What have we done? Karma.

This in turn is the root of our kleshas. In short, what we do in our lives affects us. Fair enough, right? So, if this is the case, then we should perhaps take a moment to be aware of what we do and how we do it. This soon becomes the crux of the first two steps of ashtanga, Yama and Niyama as we soon shall see. For now, we just need to be aware that actions have consequences, and those consequences lead to kleshas, which ultimately lead to duhkam, or suffering, which in turn, as we shall also see in my next post (or already here) is what is to be avoided in life by Yogic practice in order to free (moksha) us from the fetters of ignorance, or avidyã.  Whew, that is another mouthful...

Back to karma, however, we read that it can come from births/lives both seen and unseen. This can be interpreted again in more than one way. One reading is that this means the seen births/lives are those from our Past and the unseen are those from our Future. However, it could also mean that unlike the Buddha, who could see all of his past lives, our unseen ones could be the ones which did in fact come before us and the seen birth/life is merely the one that we are living today. Both can be read logically and grammatically from this sutra.

Moving on then to 2.13-14, we see further that karma does yield consequence, or as we see, fruits (of our labors/missteps).

sati mule tad-vipãko jãtyãyurbhogah  2.13
te hlãda-paritãpah-phalãh punya-apunya-hetutvãt  2.14

Or,

When/so long as the root still exists, its yield/fruition is the experiences of life and birth.  2.13
These fruits are either pleasure or pain, as a result of pure (virtuous) or impure (vice) [karma]. 2.14


And, further, following the grammar and not the accepted translations (which don't), for 2.13, we get something akin (not identical) to:

The consequence of our action is the experience of samsãra (cycle of birth/death)

{NB: for all of you language geeks out there, the first two words of 2.14, sati mule, are a locative absolute! ]

From this we then see that karma, our actions do yield results, and it is directly related to the nature of the action, but not the action itself. That is an important distinction because some actions can also be non-action, as we see in the Bhagavad Gita in Book 3 on Karma Yoga. Often not doing something is even more important than doing something, and vice versa. It is the effects of the karma, or action, moreover that will then add or detract from our ledger in the karmãshayah.

And, since these consequences, or fruits of action, can be pleasure or pain, hlãda or paritãpah, we can relate them directly to the kleshas of rãga, passion/desire and dvesha, aversion that we saw in 2.7-8. As such, our actions are indeed the root of these two kleshas. Moreover, because of our ignoranc, or avidyã, of the ultimate consequences of our karma, both past and present (and even future), then we are led into further disruptions of the karmic balance, leading to the anxiety of what is coming our way, namely, abhiniveshah.

So, the more that we are aware of what we do, karma, and how we do it, the less impact the kleshas will exert upon us. In other words, when we then learn to follow the precepts of the 8-fold path we are about to learn, the kleshas become irrelevant.

To answer our earlier question then, to eliminate the kleshas, we go back to the original state, the root of the klesha, which is no less than karma.

Take -home message?

Act well, live well, be well...

The result?

Stay tuned...




























Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Navel Gazing and Letting Go


kãrye hi kãrnam pasyet pascãt kãryam visarjayet

kãrnatvam tato gacchedavistam bhavenmunih

The cause, or action, must indeed be seen in the effect, but then the effect must be let go completely, and the causality then dissipates, and what is left, that is what the See-er becomes.

In the Aparokshãnubhuti or the "Self Awareness" of Shankara, the aspirant of Advaita Vedanta must meditate deliberately upon Brahman, with the goal of realization that the individual Atman, or Soul, cannot be dis-entangled from the Universal Atman.

However, the very act of this meditation necessitates that very dis-entangling, for how else can one mediate on an object if one is that very object?

A paradox. A conundrum. An Enigma.

We can sit all day long, gazing at a navel orange, and ultimately, at the end of the day, that orange is just an orange. We can trace the entire chain of cause and effects to get us to that moment of gazing upon that orange. The rain that caused the seed to grow, the sun that helped the tree to grow, the caterpillar that ate the buds of other oranges that did not have the chance to blossom to become that particular orange, the person who plucked the orange, the transportation needed to get to the store, the impetus to go to the store to buy food, the action of buying the orange, the action of contemplating the orange, the action of eating the orange, the feces that the orange becomes that is flushed away to re-join the world, to become the soil in which a new orange tree will grow one day, and so on, and so on, ad infinitum, ad astera...

But, so what?

At some point, such contemplation will get us nowhere. We have to Let Go of the chain of Cause and Effect, and to gaze inwardly, into our Self, to view the Quality behind the gaze.

We will all do things in Life, some things we will take great pride in, others, shame and guilt. However, those events are transitory, they are fleeting.

When we are able to let that go, to step back, to see who is the Gazer, we can see that actions that we do, the karma that we enact, will have consequences, but we cannot know them, nor can we control the effects, nor the reactions of others. What we can do, is to know that we are part of a much, much larger whole, that such actions are merely just a drop in the Ocean of Time, and how we live our lives after the Orange becomes an simple orange again, and not the chain of cause and effect that got it there, then we can enjoy The Orange for the sake of being just an orange.

Without such awareness though, there is no sweetness.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

In The End Is the Word



I have expressed my discontent with the use and abuse of Karma  elsewhere, but it bears repeating, for I cannot “pick up” an on-line publication or hear a snippet of a conversation without nearly at least once hearing someone say something to the effect of “it was my bad karma that I got stuck in traffic” or “Tim Tebow must have good karma when he prays before a game” or the like, when speaking of why something did or did not happen. To re-iterate, then, karma, from the root Kr, simply means, “the thing done,” nothing more, nothing less. There is no value, no judgment, no good, no bad, no Quality to it. It simply means--an action done.

Karma causes an effect. Karma, the action is the cause. The result, whether it is judged later as good or bad, is independent of the karma, or action, with regards to Quality. It is the result of the action that ultimately bears the burden of Quality.

The Seventh Chapter of the Chãndogya Upanishad is a brilliant catechism of cause and effort. It simultaneously pre-dates the Buddhist concept of the eight-fold Middle Way with the precursor of the concept of “right speech,” while also being the virtual inversion, like a yoga headstand of St. John’s gospel concept of the logos, or the Word made Flesh. Logos from the Greek can mean simply word, but it also extends to the entire gamut of rational discourse, study, or rhetorical utterances. It is a very powerful word in itself.

However, for John, the Word comes first, it is the Creative Force, it is God. In the Chãndogya, the words come last, they are the least powerful in a long chain of karmic events, or actions, leading back to the source of all thought and expression.

Nãrada, an aspirant of learning, approaches (the verb upa-ni-shad means to approach, like a student to a teacher) Sanatkumãra, an esteemed guru, or teacher and wishes to learn what he knows. Sanatkumãra tells Nãrada to tell him what he knows, and Sanatkumãra will in turn un-learn him of what he has learned. Nãrada lists all of the studies and texts that he has learned, in this case, memorized, beginning with the Vedas down to texts on the natural history of serpents.

To this long list of apparent erudition, Sanatkumãra says that these are all merely “namani” or words, the etymology in fact of the Greek -nym, from which we get anto-nyms and syno-nyms and the like, not the mention the more transparent inheritance into our own English as the Names.

Sanatkumãra tells his questioning friend that there is nothing behind these mere words, or names, and that the truth lies much further back, down the chain of events of cause and effect.

The ensuing dialectic, predating even the Socratic Method by centuries and the Catholic Catechism by that many more centuries is quite simple and repetitive, almost like childish banter in its simplicity, but the consequences are quite profound, calling into question our notions of the childhood mantra of “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Nothing could be further from the Truth for Sanatkumãra as we see, tracing back the origin of the word to its source.

Nãrada asks at each stage, “asti bhagavo nãmno bhuya iti nãmno vãvã bhuo’sti,” both a question and a plaintive query, “O venerable one, is there something greater than Name? Surely there is something greater than Name?!?” At each stage then, consequently, the teacher gives something that is bhuya, or greater, than the thing before, beginning with Name/Word.

From Name/word, he goes to Speech to Mind to Will to Intelligence to Meditation to Understanding to Strength (vitality to think) to Sustenance (to provide the vitality) to Water (to cause the food) to Fire to Space to Memory to Hope to the Vital Force, or Prãna, which is the source of everything. Prãna can be thought of as being kin to the pneuma of Greek, or the breath, the spirit or Life. Tracing back then, words or names are the final product of the initiation of the Vital Essence of Be-ing, the sacred breath of the Universe, pronounced by the udghita, by chanting the sacred syllable OM, or A-U-M. Though it is a chain of cause and effect, it is one and the same as you cannot have the cause without the effect, the two are not distinct, but part of the greater whole.

However, what is then interesting from this karmic chain is what Nãrada then learns is the consequence of incorrect speech, or harmful words. For, because speech and consequently words are the result of the Vital Force, expressed by the Will and through the Mind, to speak ill of one is as good as murder. Greater, or rather worse, is to speak ill of one than even to desecrate their ashes at the funeral pyre, because those are mere, mortal remains.

To speak improperly is simply spiritual murder. It does not attack the bones, like the sticks and stones, but rather the very Soul of another, the core of that person’s Vital Life Force. Speaking ill, then, of one, is not to bring on so-called “bad karma” to one’s Self, it is a much greater illness, it implicates one of pre-meditated murder.

Speak well, then, is the message from Sanatkumãra, and indeed, if you don’t have something kind to say, think about the real consequences, not the selfishness of whether you will get stuck in a traffic jam later in the day, or whether your favorite team will lose the game, but rather, what have you in fact done to that person’s Soul?

Such is the nature of Karma...and as such, we might think to speak unto others as you would have them speak to you.

Words can hurt. The good news is, they can heal too.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Instant Karma Police

On Sanskrit Street, in addition to passages and excerpts, I will be introducing some key concepts from Sanskrit that have come into contemporary life, sometimes incorrectly, as is the case with the word, "karma." For those who know me, this is perhaps one of my biggest "language pet peeves."

The substantive noun, karma, comes from the root Kri (the ri is a retroflexive "r"), which means <<to do>> or <<to make>>. As such, karma means <<the thing done/made>>. Period.

There is no further metaphysical quality to it. When one says that a bad thing happened because "I must have bad karma," actually is a nonsensical utterance, for a few reasons. For one, karma is not immediate justice meted out on a daily basis, but it is merely daily action. Secondly, you cannot HAVE good or bad karma, but you can do something that is considered to be good or bad. Karma is not something that you have, but rather it is that thing that you do.

Within Sanskrit-based philosophy and religion then, karma is used to designate the combined actions that one has done in life, during the entirety of one's lifetime, not just as a one-off happening. In other words, if you do one thing "bad," but one hundred things "good," it is a cumulative amount. You don't get stuck in the slow line at the grocery store because you cut someone off in your car on the way to the store.

On the level of a lifetime, then, it is a balance sheet of good deeds, or lack thereof. Specifically, karma then relates to one lifetime in succession to another one, and that balance sheet is also cumulative.

In the modern world, we like instant results, instant gratification, and the concept for that, instant karma, is likewise appealing to such a society. However, it is not so easy as to help a little old lady across the street in the morning to win the lottery that same evening, for example.

Karma is active participation in your life, throughout your entire life, and similar to the Ancient Greek notion of not saying whether you are "happy" right now or not, for that is not the sum total of your life and is thus premature or ephemeral, but rather, was your life a life lived of good deeds, resulting in a balance sheet of good karma? Karma, itself, however, is neither intrinsically good or evil/bad, but merely is what is done.